Sybil Tells It Like It Is
by 0madlen0
Summary: As we know there are not many as emancipated as Lady Sybil Branson nee Crawley was. But what happens when her sense of freedom gets out of control? This is going to be a collection of ficlets involving scenes with Sybil's memorable quotes and an alternative versions of them to sound, as if truly nothing limited her...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Since Lady Sybil was (and will probably remain) my favorite character in the show and I miss her wit so very much I hit on an idea to play a little with some old stuff. In, I won't deny it, rather a peculiar way;) Can you imagine Sybil as an opposite of the sweetest spirit? If there is an interest I want it to be a series of stories of different kinds. Her words will also have different effects and meet with the interlocutor's different reactions. I would like each chapter to contain one scene from past seasons. The title shows which one, so that you can remind yourself the original versions before reading mine. Have couple of ideas up my sleeve so please let me know if this is a crap or something worth continuing!

**Warning: **Your other, favorite characters and couples may be picked to pieces! Please don't be angry with Sybil – her only fault is that she just cannot hold her tongue sometimes ;)

**Disclaimer: **Written for fun, not for profits**. **I don't own these characters, they belong to Julian Fellows and I thank him for inspirations.

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**'Sybil Tells It Like It Is"  
**.

**CHAPTER 1**

**3x03**

**'Tonight or tomorrow?'**

On the evening before Edith's big day the family were sitting in the drawing room discussing the future which is waiting for the middle Crawley sister.

'You really should go to bed. No bride wants to look tired. It either means she's anxious or been up to no good.' – advised the Dowager Countess finally.

'I won't sleep a wink' – said the bride to be, her voice excited.

'Some nerves before the ceremony are understandable.' - said Sybil taking a sip of tea.

When the rest of the family went back to the talk she leaned and turned directly to her elder sister.

'But take it easy, Edith. You must only survive tonight.'

Edith looked at Sybil questioningly.

'I won't count on sparks and fireworks to come in the future if I were you, Darling. You will be blessed with long, peaceful nights.' – she added.

'Sybil!'

'You'll have a good night's sleep! Actually I envy you.' – she paused –' A little bit. Unless, of course, he won't snore… oh no,' – she shook her head –' I doubt, that's impossible you have such a bad luck! But it might happen when you put an aristocratic origin above other values...'

'You're unfair, I love him!' – Edith shouted but fell silent when her sister shushed her. Right -drawing attention of the others was the last thing she wanted.

'And he loves me! You say so because he is older.' – Edith whispered embittered.

'Honestly, I didn't mean the age, rather the personality.' – said Sybil quietly - 'Forgive me to ask but… did he ever kiss you on lips?'

Edith blushed, looked down and shook her head.

'That's what I thought.'

There was an awkward silence.

Sybil looked above her sister's head to the corner of the room. Tom was looking at her meaningfully. When their eyes met he walked his fingers along his palm and mouthed '_Can we go'_ then moved his head up adding '_upstairs,_ _now?_' to finally place his hand as if in pray whispering _'Please'_. She smiled to him rolling her eyes.

'I never thought…What should I do now?' – continued Edith troubled.

Mrs. Branson looked at her sister apologetically and took her hand.

'I'm not the best person to give you advices since, you know, my husband…' – she stopped when she saw Edith's eyes started to fill with tears - 'Maybe you should ask Anna how she deal with such things? She may be in kind of similar situation…'

'You think so?' – asked Edith with hope – 'Well, you might be right…'

Sybil nodded with a genuine compassion.

'I thought our honeymoon would be so exciting – Rome, Florence, Venice!'

'I'm afraid that even Verona wouldn't put him into the proper mood, Darling.'

Edith sighed heavily. The two of them were sitting in silence again.

'Anyway'– Sybil said slowly standing up – 'Think about it, Edith. You know, there is still some time.'

'But…?'

'Would you excuse me now?' – asked Sybil.

Confused Edith unwillingly released her sister's hand. Sybil gasped.

'The time for my own restless night just came.'


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**3x05**

**'So you're not waiting?'**

Sybil breathed a sigh and smiled wanly at her sister who was sitting at the edge of her bed.

'I'm the size of a house. My back hurts, my ankles are swelling, and my head aches! Honestly, I cannot recommend this to anyone!'

'I am listening, but of course I'm dying to start one of my own.' – said Mary looking at her seriously.

'So you're not waiting?' – asked Sybil with a hint of disbelief in her voice.

'Waiting for what?'

'Poor Mary! – Sybil rolled her eyes –'You really cannot bear one minute of not being in the spotlight?!'

Mary looked at her questioningly.

'Unbelievable!' – said Sybil -'The eldest sister? Father's darling? And someone dared to rob her of one of the greatest privilege she has!' – she was continuing with laugh.

'What are you talking about?' –asked Mary confused.

'Oh, Mary I thought you grew out of it but apparently not!'

Sybil shook her head and took her sister's hand.

'I'm terribly sorry but the future 7th Earl of Grantham won't be His Lordship's first grandchild!' –she said slowly and exploded with laughter but winced a little as she felt a slight twitch again. Her face fall completely as she saw Mary's cold look.

'Sybil! You think I am jealous?' – Mary opened her mouth wide – 'What got into you?'

'Into me? What got into you? You're "dying to start"? Mary, I have bad news for you.' – she said trying to keep her voice serious –'There's no need to be in such a hurry. I'm going to give birth in next few hours for sure, so no chances for you and Matthew to make it!'

'What?' – she shouted and released her hand – 'Do not pick holes in what I'm saying. I…'

Mary exhaled deeply.

'I don't. I was just teasing! But, Dear God…' - Sybil raised her eyebrows as Mary stood up - 'You are serious…'

Mary ran a hand across her forehead. The elder sister was now walking around the room. The more irritated she became, the bigger Sybil's grin was.

'All right.' – Mary tried to calm herself - 'I will put it down to your delicate state this time but for the future, mind what you say!'

'Looks to me like I struck a chord.'

'No, that's enough! I'm leaving!' – said Mary and headed for the door.

'And where will you go? I took note of the fact that you are not waiting but as I said it's too late for you now. To make matters worse, Matthew went to the village, so…' – Sybil continued with her mocking tone.

'I'm not coming back unless I hear that you want to apologize to me! I mean it!'

Mary snorted and opened the door. She almost collided with Tom who was entering the room in the same time she was hastily leaving it.

'What? Why are you in such a hurry? Did it start?!' – he asked panic.

'Oh, leave me alone! All of you!'


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**3x01**

_(lost scene)_

**'Goodnight, dearest Papa' **

Lord Grantham was walking down the corridor, a book in hand. It was a long day. A piece of good reading and a soft pillow under his head were all he needed at the end of it. He was about to open the door to his and his wife's bedroom when he heard a barely audible murmur from the other end of the hall. Robert looked ahead. That was Sybil. Alone. For the first time since she came home.

Thank God.

She looked up and smiled as she noticed her father. He smiled back and came closer to her.

'So nice to be home again' – she said quietly.

'So nice to see my little girl again' – Robert leaned down and kissed her cheek – 'Goodnight'

Suddenly the door behind Sybil opened and Tom was there. Sybil turned to her husband and couldn't help but ogle as she saw he is ready for bed. His face was extremely serious and that was probably what brought the idea of sneering a little to her mind…

'Oh, Tom!' – she came closer and ran her hand down his chest –'You put on _pyjamas_. How an unexpected view!'

He bucked up slightly but also blushed, knowing exactly to what she referred.

'Sybil…' – he started looking at her, trying his best to avoid Robert's eyes which were piercing him.

Lord Grantham cleared his throat.

'Well, wasted effort. You know that I'll…'

'SYBIL!' - he interrupted her and gently took her hands off him – 'Stop it!'

She grinned.

'I'm serious. Love, you act like after a huge glass of_ Poitin*_' – joked Tom just to relieve the tension. But regretted it immediately.

'Lady Sybil!' - cried Robert reminding her of his presence – 'Don't say that you've been drinking Irish moonshine!'

'Of course not, Papa!' – said Sybil turning and shivering a little at his raised voice.

Robert breathed a sigh of relief.

'Not since I found out that I'm pregnant!'

Robert's face fall down again. His nostrils quivered. The little girl was now past recognition to him. And _pregnant _– the sound of that word made him feel even more uncomfortable.

'What's that look upon your face, Papa?' - Sybil burst out laughing. Then she sighed - 'I'm also no more allowed to dance a reel in our favorite pub till morning... And I damn want to!'

Robert open his eyes wide. Tom palmed his face.

'Thankfully I have other entertainments which I'm still not forbidden and quite enjoy them.' - she took her husband's hand and gave him a mysterious look. Tom wished the ground would have swallowed him up.

'We'll try to be quiet, Papa. I promise.' – she continued – 'Maybe I should have asked Mama for a room not so close to yours… '

'What? Sybil?! But you are…' – it was a torture – '_pregnant…' – _Robert broke out with a cold sweat - 'can… you …?'

Sybil smiled with compassion seeing his face and nodded. She was about to open her mouth again but Tom was quicker this time. It was a high time to react.

He hold his wife with one firm move.

'That's enough, love. We're going to … Goodnight' – he said and pushed her into the room.

'Goodnight, dearest Papa' – she managed to add before the door shut behind them.

There was a silence. Lord Grantham stood aghast, unable to move although something was telling him that he'd better run away of there as soon as possible.

It was a long day.

And this weekend will probably be the longest one in his life.

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*Poitin – traditional, Irish, highly alcoholic beverage


End file.
